


I knew the pathway like the back of my hand

by lanyon



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 15:35:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanyon/pseuds/lanyon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson is a dreadful Beta. He puts Alphas’ backs up and he upsets Omegas and he’s not even remotely apologetic about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I knew the pathway like the back of my hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ralkana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ralkana/gifts).



> +Warning for the usual consent issues related to A/B/O, albeit in the background.   
> +Title from _Somewhere Only We Know_ by Keane (though the Lily Allen cover is fantastic).

Phil Coulson is a dreadful Beta. He puts Alphas’ backs up and he upsets Omegas and he’s not even remotely apologetic about it. 

.

In the first instance, there’s Marcus, who’s completely Alpha. Even Phil, anosmia and all, can sense that. Marcus strides in and sniffs the air and says he wants Phil for his team, except he calls him Cheese, for no good reason, and drags him off to jump out of planes and thwart assassination attempts and be the best Army Rangers they can be. 

“So,” says Marcus, eyeing him over cold rations in the mess hall in Somewhere, Afghanistan. “You’re a Beta.”

“Yes,” says Phil, as though it’s not a really rude statement. “And you’re an Alpha.”

Marcus grunts. “You’re not very respectful.”

“I am plenty respectful, _sir_ ,” says Phil, “because you’re my commanding officer, not because of the amazing things your-”

.

It’s an unlikely friendship. An Alpha who respects a Beta; a Beta who respects an Alpha enough to call him out on his shit (and no one ever believes Phil when he says that Marcus is full of shit; and they believe it even less when he becomes Nick Fury Jr and they are both at Daisy Johnson’s mercy). 

.

“I’ve heard about you,” she says, setting her tray down opposite him. “You’re the Beta who’s in charge.”

“Agent May,” says Phil, refraining from calling her the Cavalry. “It’s an honour.”

She smiles, startled. 

“What?” asks Phil. “I can be polite.”

“I was told,” she says, leaning in close. “That you don’t like Alphas.”

“I like the ones I know,” says Phil. He leans back and dips his chin and looks her square in the eyes. 

She’s breathless. “Then you best get to know me, boss.” 

.

He does get to know Agent May. They play tag up through the rankings and he’s always a step ahead of her and the heady heights of Level Six become the vantage point from which he sees Clint Barton for the first time.

.

Clint is a Beta, too. He is sullen about it; in the circus, he was a freak because he was not special. 

Phil likes him. It’s why he doesn’t shoot to kill. 

Clint has an even worse sense of smell than Phil. When Phil is bandaging his leg, Clint snarls at him and calls him _Alpha scum._

“Some of my best friends are Alphas,” says Phil and he hauls Clint to his feet, jabbing his thigh with a morphine syrette. 

“Cute,” says Clint with a grunt. He’s easier to manoeuvre when he’s half-asleep.

.

Phil likes Clint maybe more than he’s liked anyone. He kisses him, a week later. Clint pushes him away. 

“Hey, I’m not some easy Omega,” says Clint. 

“I don’t know any easy Omegas,” says Phil. It’s true. The only Omega he’s encountered, from a safe, safe distance, has been Tony Stark and he is the most difficult man in North America. 

“Oh,” says Clint. He blinks. “Don’t you want one?”

Phil frowns. “Why would I?”

Clint makes a sound of pure frustration. “You’re not exactly normal.”

.

“Didn’t you ever think,” says Phil, a few days later, his hand curled around Clint’s bicep as they kiss slowly. “That like attracts like?”

“There ain’t nothing like you,” says Clint, a little nonsensically. “Still don’t get why you’re not chasing after some big ol’ Alpha or sexy Omega with their _instincts_.”

Phil thinks that maybe Clint’s read too many bad romance novels.

“I have instincts, too, Clint,” says Phil, softly. “One hundred per cent human.”

Clint goes still under him. 

“Fuck, that’s hot.”

.

Phil still wants to hurt whoever made Clint think that, by being a Beta, he was anything but special.

.

When they bring in the Black Widow, she tries her best to exert her Omega influence. Phil doesn’t know how they ran things in the Red Room but he thinks that Natasha’s pretty surprised at the unorthodox hierarchy they have at SHIELD. 

She regards him silently in the interrogation room. She is unused to Betas in a position of power. She is unused to Betas who are unimpressed by her.

(Clint is impressed and Phil tells himself that it is just biology. He cannot be mad when Clint clings to him because Natasha’s pheromones fuck with his head.)  
.

They haul Captain America up from the ice. It’s pretty exciting. Phil is pretty excited.

“It’s happened at last,” says Clint, sadly. He stabs at his apple pie. Natasha scoops up his ice cream. 

“What’s happened?” she asks. They have reached a happy equilibrium, the three of them. Natasha is strangely protective of Clint and Phil and they treat her like a regular girl. 

“Phil’s about to meet the Alpha of his dreams,” says Clint “I’ll be thrown over.”

Oh god, he _has_ been reading romances. 

.  
Captain America is indisposed with heat when he comes to. Tony Stark takes care of it because he’s more than willing to take one for the team, or for the country. They don’t bond, though, and Phil thanks his lucky stars for that small mercy. Stark would be insufferable. 

They figure that Cap has a dead bondmate. They don’t pry.

.

“Do you ever?” starts Clint.

“No,” says Phil.

“You don’t know what I was going to ask!”

“Some tripe about me wishing that one of us was an Alpha or an Omega,” says Phil. He puts his hands on either side of Clint’s face. He looks him in the eyes. Clint would look away, if he could. “How many times?” Phil asks softly. “How many times do I have to tell you how goddamned lucky I am?”

“‘m only a Beta,” says Clint. 

“Am _I_ only a Beta?”

Clint looks pained. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” whispers Phil. “I know. And I’m still goddamned lucky. I’m human. So are you. And this is-” He swallows, thickly. “This isn’t fucking _biology_ or some kind of physiological imperative. This is you’n me, Clint. This is _real_.”

Clint blinks slowly and he nods, like maybe he gets it. The one grace afforded to Betas; the one reward is this: that they can fall in love, unquestioningly, unreservedly, undoubtedly. 

“I don’t want an Alpha,” says Phil, fiercely. “I don’t want an Omega.”

.

Phil Coulson is a dreadful Beta. His husband is not much better. It seems like they’re made for each other.


End file.
